WBY - Payback
by wildblueyonder6
Summary: Characters: John Winchester and OC. This is a follow up to No Jacket Required. Pre-series. The boys are undercover in a boarding school and Dean finds himself in big trouble. In this follow up, it's just John and his old Lieutenant from Vietnam. Might be a good idea to read NJR /s/7525313/1/ That story has spanking in it - this one just references it.


Title: Payback

Characters: John Winchester, other OC. This is a follow up to "No Jacket Required."

s/7525313/1/

It's not necessary to read that but it would make a helluva lot more sense if you did. A readers asked for this and I thought it was a good idea. I hope you enjoy.

XXX

John had to admit it was a bit of a shock to hear from Lieutenant Cummings. The man had kept in touch with Jim through the years, but John was man enough _and nomadic enough_ to realize that keeping in touch with John Winchester was not the easiest thing in the world so he didn't take it personal.

He did smile to himself when he just happened to pick up the phone and hear his old El Tee's voice. The smile was equal parts pleasure at hearing the man's voice and noting his own involuntary rack of his shoulders and the "Yes, sir," that tumbled out of his mouth unbidden.

There was something intrinsically comforting about automatically deferring to some one. It didn't happen often in John's life and slipping back, even momentarily to a time when all he had to worry about was getting his ass shot at by VC was almost a relief compared to the shit storm that was his present day life.

Besides, the LT was a good man, had always been a good man and maybe even a better leader. John had been a natural in 'Nam, good with a gun, almost better with a knife and uncanny walking point. He had a God given ability to sense the enemy that had saved his platoon on more than one occasion. In fact, it was the LT who'd given him the nickname of "The Kid." Which may have seemed crazy considering there were tons of kids fighting that war. But John was younger than most, having lied his way into the Corp. He'd had no father to speak of, no one to care about him except for Mary and the LT could have sent him home. _Should've_ sent him home but for some reason he didn't. That very act had changed John – helped make him into the man he was today.

For good or bad, John figured.

His life after Vietnam had nothing to do with Lieutenant Cummings, except that the knowledge the man had passed down to him as a Marine had spilled over into his life as a hunter. It had given him an edge that not everyone had. Marine was John's go to place, not just in a Semper Fi kind of way but deeper than that. He'd learned that order and structure and discipline could change someone. Had, in fact, changed him. His boys learned the very same thing under his watchful eye. The Marine method from fighting to firing a weapon to overall recon. It was a good thing and Dean and Sam took to it like a duck to water.

Well, Sammy protested a bit more than Dean ever did, but the result was the same. His boys at sixteen and twelve were far more competent than most combat trained Marines. And if that made John somewhat of an asshole? Well, that didn't bother him too much. His boys would live to fight another day and most of that was because John didn't allow for much wiggle room when it came to hunting specifically and disobedience in general.

Which is why he really didn't think he needed to tell Dean more than once exactly what his expectations were regarding behavior at Ashford Academy. Ashford where Lieutenant Cummings was now Headmaster Cummings. Ashford that may or may not have a ghost problem. He hadn't been shocked to have Dean pitch a fit about the uniform he had to wear, nor the smartass remarks he'd made, even to John himself. In fact, John could see the humor in it, sometimes it was hard not to want to laugh right along with the boy. But a possible haunting at Ashford was a job and Dean knew what that meant.

John had been clear with Dean. Crystal in fact. They were undercover and Dean was to behave like he wasn't raised in a barn. Okay, so he was raised in an Impala, but the kid knew right from wrong and he knew when to keep his smart mouth shut. John may not have taught the kids which fucking fork to use at a formal dinner but both of his boys had manners. Dean's smartass mouth had got him in trouble with John more than once. Sometimes John let it ride, other times he'd give the kid hell. Maybe it was the inconsistencies that created a problem? John didn't think so – it was just in Dean's nature to push the envelope once in a while. All well and good John figured, but not when he'd drawn a line in the sand as clearly as he had with LT Cummings.

"Daad," Dean had whined about the uniform, then he'd almost taken Sammy out. If John hadn't physically put himself between those two, Dean would have drawn first blood and then John would have been forced to kick some ass before they had even made it to school on the first day.

Still, a rough shake and a rougher reminder and the boy somehow managed to get his shit together.

Then Dean had gotten his ass beat but that dickwad Bainesworth. Okay, John admitted after he'd met the guy that he most certainly was a dickwad. He didn't share that with Dean right away because fuck…it hadn't mattered. John had told him to keep his damn nose clean.

The final straw had been Dean getting sent to see Cummings. Dean had been honest enough when John had seen the bright red stripes on his ass. It wasn't as if John had never placed a couple on the boy's butt himself but it was the principle of the thing. John had dressed him down, put the fear of John Winchester in him but hadn't spanked him again. Maybe he should have but he felt pretty sure the two hundred and fifty crunches made a hell of an impact. Dean had left his office contrite and suitably chastised.

It was then that John decided to drop in on the LT.

The secretary was a pleasingly plump woman who looked like she could handle John with one hand tied behind her back.

"Mr. Winchester? How nice of you to drop in." She made it clear that she didn't like "drop ins" of any kind but apparently because John was "faculty" it was just as clear that she didn't have a say in it. Before he'd even made it to the massive wooden door, the LT opened it.

"Mrs. McCurdy, thank you for you exemplary watch dog skills." Cummings smiled, blue eyes sparking and Mrs. McCurdy almost giggled. It gave John some pause, Cummings was that damn smooth.

But apparently she took the praise from the man to heart, "Not a problem, sir. Just doing my job."

"Mr. Winchester, " Cummings said formally and gestured through the doorway.

John nodded and stepped into Cummings office. He'd been there once before to discuss the potential haunting but he was struck again with how much the room reflected the man. Subtle, strong, masculine. John didn't have a decorator's touch in any sense of the word, if it hadn't been for Mary there wouldn't have been curtains at their windows in Lawrence. But whatever or however Cummings had done it, the room felt right somehow.

Once inside Cummings dropped the formalities, "Good to see you, John." The smaller man hugged John in a one armed, thumping greeting that apparently all Marines knew. John reciprocated and then they both stepped back just as easy and effortless as the hug had been.

"So, Kid…are we here about Ashton's haunting or are we here about your kid?"

Cummings grinned when he said it but it was obvious that he was going to take John's response seriously.

"Both?" John admitted, rubbing a hand unconsciously behind his neck.

"Have a seat." Cummings gestured offhandedly to a large chair and John sat.

"Haunting wise? Well, I'm not sure we have a case yet. The boys aren't getting much intel other than what we already know. Me either, truthfully. Still, whenever there are unexplained, violent or untimely deaths, well there can be ghosts. I find that kid ghosts often act the same way a kid does, give them a bit of a boot in the ass and that often sets them in the right direction." John allowed a small smile to play upon his face, "Which of course brings me to the second reason for my visit."

Cummings steepled his hands together and settled back in his own chair a little more firmly.

"I figured as much."

"So Dean…" John began.

"Is a smart kid," Cummings ended

"Is a smartass," John amended.

"Much like his daddy," Cummings agreed.

John felt the beginnings of warmth move up his neck. He hadn't blushed in so long he almost forgot the feeling.

"I feel like I need to apologize for him. Which is crazy as hell because I don't even apologize for myself."

"Not crazy at all, it's different when it's your kids. They are a reflection of us."

"That's what scares me."

"It shouldn't, John. That boy is all you and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

John dropped his face a bit, studied the fancy carpet, "Don't know about that El Tee, I've been known to make a poor decision or three."

Cummings nodded, "Like that whore house in Da Nang."

"Hey, hey, El Tee…that wasn't me, that was Deacon and Jim."

"So you weren't there?"

"Uh, no, sir. I was there, I just didn't partake in some of the evening's festivities. "

"If by festivities you mean enjoying the company of the local ladies, maybe not, but you sure as hell were a part of the ensuing fight."

John sighed, "Yes, sir. You are right about that and I seem to remember you giving me a matching black eye after the fact."

"It was either that, write you up or turn you over my knee. Writing up was not something I would've ever done but the spanking? Believe me, Kid…that wasn't the first time it crossed my mind where you were concerned."

John laughed then, "Like father like son."

"True enough. You weren't much older than Dean and maybe I should've lit up your ass instead of blackening your eye." Cummings blue eyes twinkled.

John nodded, "Maybe. But I think I would've understood either way that you were less than impressed with my hi-jinks."

Cummings ignored John's last comment and mused off handedly, "Come to think of it, a spanking would've been better all the way around. With both eyes swollen shut, you were pretty damn worthless as a point man for a few days."

"True enough," John agreed, "But it didn't stop the KP duty you saddled me with. Apparently, peeling potatoes blind isn't an issue."

"I don't recall any severed fingers in the potatoes so I guess you pulled it off," Cummings mentioned with another smile.

Cummings took a deep breath,"So have you got something to tell me about with Dean? Are you unhappy with how I needed to handle him?"

"No…no, sir. Dean brought that on himself. He and I had a discussion before we signed up for this gig and we just had another. The boy knows how I feel about it."

Cummings thought for a moment, "Another? Did you bust that boy's ass again?"

"Nah, I should've maybe but when I saw how uh, thorough you were, I figured there was no use beating a dead horse. Or in this case a well-beaten ass. His abs are gonna be feeling the burn a bit though."

Cummings grunted. John thought it a surprisingly odd sound considering how articulate the man was. "If I know your boy, like I think I might…he'll just consider it a little more six pack ammo for the girls. But I'm sure it got the point across too."

"I like to think so."

There was a brief lull then as if each man had something to say but wasn't quite sure how to say it.

Finally John spoke, quiet and low but clear. "I just wanted to say thank you, El Tee, for everything you ever did for me. For every peeled potato, every smack in the head and even that black eye. You taught me more In Country than just about anyone I know. You taught me about fighting and looking out for your own, keeping your head down and knowing when you needed to step into the line of fire. You made me a better Marine. I think though that it was the things you taught me outside of being Marine that made even more of a difference. You helped make me a better man. I appreciated it then, even though I never said a damn thing. I appreciate it now too."

"It's a two way street, John. You taught me plenty too."

For the first time John looked genuinely puzzled, "Me?"

"Well, for one thing, you taught me that smarts don't always mean a damn thing. I was a bit older than you, had a fucking college education but I was never as good a point man as you were. Sometimes, I'd be a step or two behind you and not catch the trip wire, or notice whatever you noticed that stopped a potential clusterfuck. You John, are about as organic a soldier as I've ever met. But that being said, you never allowed it to turn you. To make you into something no one should ever be. If you take anything away from this conversation, try to hold onto that idea. You love those boys like nobodies business and I know it can be a slippery slope but hang onto how much they mean to you and you will come out alright. Not always perfect, mind you, because kids don't come with a manual. Kids whose momma died the way your Mary died? Well, that's a whole 'nother thing entirely. But whatever you do, you do because you need to keep them safe. Because you love them. You make your decisions based on that and it will be okay."

John nodded.

"Can't hear your head rattle, son." Cummings prompted gently.

John met those sharp blue eyes squarely, his gaze unwavering, "Yes, sir."

He almost saluted.

End.


End file.
